


shall i stay...

by jamestkirk



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-29
Updated: 2015-12-29
Packaged: 2018-05-10 04:04:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5570314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamestkirk/pseuds/jamestkirk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>for the prompt: "awkward teenagers han and luke at prom".</p><p> </p><p>  <i>It’s been bound to be a disaster since the beginning. There’s really no way around that.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	shall i stay...

**Author's Note:**

> so this draws some inspiration from me and my friend's modern au but with some changes but just know there’s like a whole day’s worth of meta behind this. leia is a couple years older than luke in this and han’s her age.
> 
> this is Cliche as Hell but ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

* * *

It’s been bound to be a disaster since the beginning. There’s really no way around that. 

Poking at his cereal absently, attention focused a rerun of his favorite soap opera, Luke was reminded by one of the main character’s daughter and the drama currently ensuing at her senior prom just how much he wasn’t looking forward to his. “Mine’s going to be so much more boring.”

That earned a raised brow from his sister’s on again, off again (currently off) boyfriend, Han, finishing off his bacon before replying. “Her dad just got shot on the dance floor by her supposedly dead lover. Your family’s got plenty drama without all that.”

“Yeah, but I don’t even have a _date_ ,” Luke moaned with the slightest hint of a pout. Not that he really _wanted_ to take anyone in his class, which was just another part of the problem. Really, the only person he wanted to take was-  


“Hey, why don’t I go with ya, kid?”  


Luke lowered his spoon and blinked. Blinked again. “Huh?” he eventually managed.

Han shrugged, folding his arms over his chest. “Yeah, it’ll be fun. Say hi to some of the teachers. I’m sure I’ve left an unfillable hole in their lives.”

Luke’s brows knit. “I don’t know, Han…”

“C’mon, who else’re you gonna go with? _Wedge_?”  


“Well, no, he’s going with-” he cut himself off, knowing he’d already answered the question for himself. He frowned. Han leaned back in his chair, looking self satisfied.  


“So, that’s a yes?”  


It wasn’t. Luke wasn’t a masochist. There were things to be _considered_ before just saying yes to going to prom with the One as a friend. But what Luke was? Completely weak to the puppy dog face he was getting. He sighed.

“I guess.”  


The grin that stretched across his friend’s face already had him regretting that decision.

* * *

And that’s why Luke’s walking into his senior prom arm in arm with a living legend of the school, and not for any the right reasons. He feels like crawling behind the bleachers with every wave and grin Han shoots someone’s way. An elbow nudges his side, startling him to look at Han.

“Lighten up. It’s prom, not a death march,” he whispers, amusement clear in his tone. Instead of an answer, Luke just shoves back with a twitch of his lips. It soothes his nerves slightly, anyway.  


It’s ruined when instead of heading to the dance floor, Han steers them towards the table where Wedge and his date are sitting, promising to be back with drinks as he leaves Luke to avoid the clearly questioning look he’s getting. His avoidance doesn’t work long, because as soon as Han’s out of earshot, his best friend’s leaning over his date with an incredulous look.

“You brought your sister’s _boyfriend_? Who you haven’t shut up about for four years?”  


“They broke up,” he points out, ignoring the pointed _again_ , “and we’re going as _friends_.”  


“Is that what he thinks?”  


Luke waves him off, heat crawling up his neck. _And shame_. Just in time, as Han comes strolling back drinks for all of them somehow balanced in his arms. The next thirty minutes are spent watching everyone else, Luke’s punch barely touched. And what’s with that, anyway? Who even likes punch? He definitely doesn’t. It has nothing to do with the way his stomach is tying itself into knots that could rival headphones left out overnight.

Han leaves a couple of times to go catch up with someone, clearly trying not to push. But just as Luke’s thinking he might be escaping this mess without any dancing, he’s being pulled up to his feet. As soon as he’s standing, he pulls his hand away from Han’s, face heating again.

“I came so you wouldn’t be bored and where are we, hmm? Come on. We’re dancing. And don’t even _try_ saying you can’t. I saw you that one time with Beyonce.”  


Luke shuts his his mouth, having been about to say just that. Reluctantly, he trails after Han until they’re in the middle of the crowd. To his horror, it dawns on him that it’s a slow song playing.

“Han-” he starts, but doesn’t get very far as Han’s eyes narrow and he just pulls him in.  


“Nuh uh. Not getting out of this one, junior.”  


And really, it’s not like Luke could exactly protest at the moment. Not with Han’s _arms around his waist_ and chin somewhere near his head, slowly swaying them to the music. There isn’t much actual dancing going on, but it doesn’t seem like there is with any of the couples. _Couple_. Oh, god.

He’s stiff and awkward, his face probably several shades deep ~~of~~ red it shouldn’t be and it can’t be blamed on the tux. There isn’t anything romantic about it. Just his fingers gripping a little too hard at Han’s shoulders and his eyes focused on a piece of lint on his jacket. But still, he feels like his heart is about to beat straight out of his chest. And wouldn’t that be a sight?

“Relax,” Han mutters somewhere by his ear. “It’s just me.”  


_Yeah. Just **you**_.

“My tux’s hot,” Luke mumbles. Apparently, it can be blamed on the tux. Not successfully, he learns the hard way, but it can. Han doesn’t say anything, but he swears he can feel him smiling in amusement. Still, he does his best to relax, letting his muscles loosen and his head rest slightly against Han’s. They’ve been closer than this before. A few months ago, during the whole first kiss debacle neither of them seem keen on mentioning again. A few time on camping trips, when it got cold. But it feels… different, nerves still flurttering in Luke’s stomach.  


The song starts to slow and Han pulls back, Luke’s heart sinking ever so slightly. He lifts his chin to meet his eyes, expecting a grin and a joke. Instead, his throat goes a little dry at the intensity there. Parting his lips to say something, anything, an excuse, he’s stopped by Han leaning down to press a light kiss against his cheek, barely missing his lips.

“Thanks for dancing with me, Luke,” he mumbles before the last notes ring out and he’s pulling away.  



End file.
